


Battle off the Field

by BlackBirdAolen



Category: 300 (2006)
Genre: Captive, Counterparts - Freeform, M/M, Opposites, Stubbornness, Waiting, heat - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-12
Updated: 2014-11-12
Packaged: 2018-02-25 02:56:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2605934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackBirdAolen/pseuds/BlackBirdAolen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leonidas has been captured, and now waits for what Xerxes has to offer. He is surprised to find the Persian king wanting something different from what he initially would have imagined.</p><p> </p><p>  <a href="http://ask.fm/BlackBirdAolen">Got a fanfic idea for me?</a><br/><a href="http://cheroshseiphar.deviantart.com/">My deviantART - full of original fiction.</a><br/><a href="http://blackbirdaolen.tumblr.com/">Snippets and ramblings on my tumblr.</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Battle off the Field

A disgraceful, shameful defeat. That had been his biggest worry. Leonidas shuddered in the cool breeze while he waited, his knees forced to bend to the Persian god-king. He hadn't bowed his head, though. He would refuse to do that until the end of his life. He never would bow to anyone, be he god or king, or both. In his eyes, Xerxes was neither. He was a man pretending to be a god and a king at the same time. A felony which should have been punished in the worst way possible. But in this moment, he had to hold back. Leonidas wasn't afraid, but he had to consider his men. The family he had left behind. As many Persians as they had defeated with seeming ease, the forces of Xerxes had overwhelmed them eventually.

Now, he was waiting for the self proclaimed god to come to him and, well, then what? Leonidas had a couple of ideas what Xerxes would want to do with him, none of them being all that pleasant to begin with. But he would not bow to the tyranny of the Persian, that much was for sure. It was just a question if he would be able to resist the offers and the threats for a long time. His spirit had almost been broken on the battlefield, and it had left cracks in his resolve. A most despicable turn of events. He could no longer call himself the king of Sparta, should he give in to Xerxes in any way.

While Leonidas was waiting, a thousand different possibilities ghosted through his mind. With how he had mocked and insulted the Persian king, it wouldn't be surprising if he wanted to exact his revenge now. Xerxes wouldn't forgive him for the attacks on him, and especially not for the wound he had received in battle. The instant Leonidas had managed to scratch the god king with his spear, and had ripped away some of the golden jewelry, he had forfeited any chance to be let off easily. In some way, it gave him a grim sense of satisfaction, but then again, it would also warrant the most cruel torment Xerxes could think of.

What was taking the Persian king so long? Leonidas had thought that Xerxes would want to get to the point immediately, but it rather seemed like he was dragging it out, to savor the moment even more. Like a cat, the Spartan thought to himself. A cat that was enjoying the thought of having caught some most powerful prey. But Leonidas still considered himself to be the wolf on the battlefield. He would not give in easily to Xerxes, no matter what the Persian king would offer. What foul thoughts would that mind spawn? What punishment would await him?

"Leonidas..." Xerxes's velvety voice came from the dark of the tent, and Leonidas slowly turned his head. He hadn't expected the other male to be in the tent already. He never had heard anyone entering. Had Xerxes just watched him intently from the dark? Had he scrutinized him like some tasty meal? "It is good to see you again."

The mocking tone didn't faze Leonidas. If that was all the Persian could offer, then he had sorely disappointed him already. Xerxes slowly paced towards him, every movement controlled and measured. The warrior had to admit that Xerxes didn't look like he was just lounging languidly in his throne all day long. With how the movements seemed to flow, with how his muscles gracefully shifted beneath dark skin, it was difficult to imagine that the Persian didn't possess a great amount of self control due to rigorous training.

A surprisingly warm hand brushed along Leonidas's shoulder, and just for the briefest of moments, he tensed beneath the contact. But he willed himself easily into relaxing again, gazing back at Xerxes with an unwavering, firm expression. A sinister smile made Xerxes's mouth curl at the corners, and he suddenly slipped into Leonidas's lap, as though the Spartan was little more than a rather comfortable seat. Again, those warm hands stroke along the Spartan's skin, and dark eyes scrutinized him.

"I was wondering, Spartan, if you would submit to me in such a fashion. If you would obey my command, now that I have proven that I am superior to you."

Leonidas still didn't reply. To him, Xerxes had proven nothing. The Persian had demanded that he would join the empire under Xerxes's rule, and had in return offered nothing Sparta would have desired. So, the Spartan king remained silent. Unwavering like the mountain in the howling wind. He hadn't become a warrior, had endured hardship and battles beyond imagination to finally be nothing more than a servant. None of the touches really evoked any reaction from his side. And that seemed to be oddly amusing to Xerxes.

"Still the stoic warrior, still the same unwavering mind. I admire that in you, Spartan, but that's where the admiration ends. You have dared to stand in my way, and you have lost. So you will bow to me now."

"I shall not." Leonidas didn't try to look haughty or anything. He just wore the ever same, uncaring expression. He didn't let any feelings show through. "This fight still isn't over, and as long as it is raging, I shall never bow to anyone. And even in death, I shall never bow to you. I will never be yours, god king of Persia."

Xerxes chuckled, leaning even closer. Leonidas hadn't expected such a reaction. Why was the Persian so amused about his act? Something was not right about it, and it unsettled Leonidas. But he never would have shown that he was worried about what would happen in the future. He would remain stone-faced, and he never would willingly give up to the Persian. However, if Xerxes would subject him to something he never had felt before, Leonidas was unsure how it would end. He was getting an idea where the Persian was intending to go when he felt the warm pair of hands stroking down along his muscular abdomen.

"You wear the body of a true warrior, Spartan. Marred, muscles, hardened in the forge that is called war. It makes me wonder even more about you." The dark eyes shimmered with a strange lust, and Leonidas again tensed for the briefest of moments. "Why would I desire to bed a man such as you? I much prefer the soft, yet so delectably strong bodies of my courtesans... And then, you appear and make me fantasize about this."

"So you would fight war for a toy?" Leonidas couldn't help but scoff lightly. "I thought you would want more power, but apparently, I was mistaken."

"Don't judge me too quickly, great warrior of Sparta." Xerxes gripped Leonidas's hair, pulling his head back and pressing a kiss on the Spartan's throat, briefly laving his tongue against the sweaty skin. The heat inside the tent had made Leonidas sweat lightly, and from how Xerxes purred, he rather liked the taste it created. "Your clinging to your pride has caused this whole war. You already said you would never bow to anyone. So you will have to suffer the consequences. Not everyone is meant to never give in."

Leonidas closed his eyes and tuned out everything around him. He had nothing to say any longer. He would not give Xerxes what the other desired, not without a fight. He would always fight, to the end of his life, and he would go down as a warrior, not as a captive. Leonidas would never allow anyone to judge him as a weakling. He had proven time and again that he was worthy of being called one of the greatest. The necessary strength ran through his very veins. He had shown everyone that he was the rightful king of Sparta. Nothing would ever take this pride from him.

"How can you be so stoic?" Xerxes's voice was a faint echo, as was the heat which was starting to seep into his body. It flowed all over his skin, leaving him with the feeling he was pushed closer to the brass bowl filled with gleaming coals. "Others would have melted right away, but you, you are simply cold and unwavering. It is admirable, and yet..."

The rest of Xerxes's words drowned out into a faint murmur. Leonidas focused on this suggestion, on the cold and unwavering. The mountains, the thick blanket of snow covering everything, it had become intimately familiar to Leonidas in his time away from Sparta. He had gone through the brutal rites of Sparta and passed them with skill and strength alike. His will had been forged long before he had ever seen battle. He would, could not give in now.

"The infamous strength of Sparta..." Xerxes's voice came back as a heated whisper, along with a strange, heavy smell creeping into Leonidas's mind. What was this strange smell? It was a strong fragrance, filled with exotic notes, filled with a certain sense of longing. Was this even more witchcraft? "But you will crumble just like everyone else in my presence..."

 


End file.
